Survival III: January Thaw
by Cassima
Summary: COMPLETE. Shounen ai. 1x2x5. Seven years after the end of the war, the charade is suddenly over.


January Thaw by Cassima 

* * *

Archive: Ask first.  
  
Ownership: Survival Arc? Yes (this fic included!). Gundam Wing and all its characters and plot and such? Nuh-uh.  
  
Summary: Seven years after the end of the war, the charade is abruptly over. "Endless Waltz" never happened, so I guess it's kind of AU.  
  
Rating: PG-ish... nothing really worse than what we've seen before in the Survival Arc.  
  
Warnings: Angst. Stuff. Whatever.  
  
THANK YOUS AND POCKY go out to Bronze Tigress for catching the silly miscommunications between my brain and my hands. All mistakes that you find are my own. Mine! Mine! ::clutches them to her chest with a wicked laugh::  
  
Author's note: This is part of a series; the previous parts can be found at my web page. **I suggest you read Absolute Zero and To Build a Fire first.  
**   
** III.** ** JANUARY THAW**: 

The title of a chapter in the Sand County Almanac, by Leopold. The book is basically a shrine to nature, and may be interesting in parts, but is evil for a class assignment. Gosh, I still remember, from all those years ago... (Side note: I live in Michigan. We kind of have a Feburary Thaw... and then a Feburary Freeze... and then a March, May, or June thaw... so I can't really relate, but hey, in Michigan, we don't really have seasons, we kind of just go with the flow.)  
  


* * *

_I touch the fire, and it freezes me.  
I look into it and it's black.  
Why can't I feel?  
My skin should crack and peel.  
I want the fire back._  
  
--"Once More With Feeling", _ Buffy the VVampire Slayer_

* * *

  
  
Duo struggled against the urge to cry. He could feel the tears building up behind his eyelids and blinked furiously. He finally gave in, using his shirt sleeve to mop at his eyes. "Wu, you're heartless." He snuffled piteously.  
  
Wufei, unperturbed, continued to chop the green peppers. "You offered." He seemed almost amused.  
  
"Yeah, well, you didn't have to accept." Viciously, he hacked at the onion again.  
  
"Think of it as a character-building experience." Looking even more amused, he scooped up the chopped peppers and carried them over to the pot.  
  
"You think I need more character?' Duo had to grin through his onion-induced tears. "Alright, but you're not allowed to complain later."  
  
"More character?" Wufei smirked. "I think you need different character."  
  
"Oy!" Duo cried, clutching at his chest dramatically with the hand not holding the knife. "Right in the heart! Wu, you've wounded me!"  
  
"You're making a mess of that, Maxwell," Wufei returned, but Duo could tell he was still enjoying himself.  
  
"How can you mess up chopping a vegetable?" Duo demanded.  
  
Slipping up behind him, Wufei carefully put one hand over each of Duo's, guiding the knife against the onion. His front nestled comfortably against Duo's back. "Make slices," he murmured in Duo's ear, chin settled on the American's shoulder. "And then you go across... and then the other way."  
  
Duo shivered a little as Wufei's warm breath tingled on his ear and neck. Wufei was a few inches taller than him; genetics had been kind to Wufei, and Sally attributed Duo's lack of height to malnutrition in his early developing years. It didn't really bother him. Duo was used to being short.  
  
"Are you getting distracted?" Wufei whispered against Duo's neck.  
  
"I think you'll need to teach me again," Duo replied slyly. "You know how slow I am in the kitchen."  
  
Wufei pulled away, shaking his head and walking back towards the stove. "Incorrigible, that's what you are."  
  
Duo pinched his butt. "Don't incorrige me."  
  
Wufei yelped and sent him a dirty look, but the smirk he was struggling to contain indicated he didn't really mean it. "Add the onions. After that, the sauce has to simmer for 20 minutes. I'm pulling out the bread; you mince the garlic."  
  
"Yes sir, Captain Wu-chan." Instantly, he knew he had given himself away in that; he'd been too casual for a cooking lesson, too--something. Wufei was sure to pick up on it--Wufei always picked up on that kind of thing. Duo dropped the onion chunks in the pot of spaghetti sauce and carefully stirred it, hoping Wufei would let it be. He pulled the garlic out of the cupboard, shelled a few cloves with a careful hand, and began to mince.  
  
"Duo..." Wufei began hesitantly, and Duo checked to make sure he wasn't doing something stupid, like chopping the garlic skin, that he could blame it on. Finding nothing obvious, he raised his eyes to meet Wufei's; despite their recent banter, Wufei had a serious air about him.  
  
The Chinese man looked at him for a moment. "Nothing." He looked unsure of his answer, and stirred the sauce absently.  
  
It wasn't nothing, but Duo didn't debate it, choosing instead to start into a story about one of his students, a girl who'd chosen to pull a paper off the internet and pass it off as her own. "It wasn't even on the right book," Duo concluded to the laughing Wufei. "And, of course, her parents are furious with me. Stupid dumb rich kids. It's like dealing with OZ again, 'cept I'm not allowed to blow 'em up this time. I mean, the paper's grammar alone sent me into hysterics... and I'm not supposed to laugh while handing back papers. The kids take offense and tell Marissa, and then she has to reprimand me... it's just not pretty."  
  
"That's what you get for teaching high schoolers," Wufei returned, slathering the garlic butter on the loaf of bread. "At least the idiots I'm stopping are adults. By the way, Une still wants you in the Preventors."  
  
"Tell her the uniforms are too tacky." The continual job offers were a running joke between Duo and Une.  
  
"Why don't you just tell her you're not interested?" Wufei asked. "Spare me this eternal message boy duty."  
  
Duo winked. "And break her heart? Nah... it's more fun this way."  
  
The front door clicked open; Duo could hear the jangle of Heero's keys as he tossed them in the basket on the table.  
  
Heero walked into the kitchen, heading immediately to the pot and tasting the sauce with the stirring spoon. "Needs basil."  
  
"No, it doesn't," Wufei replied, taking the spoon away and rapping at his knuckles.  
  
"Hullo to you, too, Hee-chan," Duo said with a smirk.  
  
"I hate Relena's groupies," Heero replied, moving so Wufei could place the garlic bread in the oven.  
  
"So what else is new?" Wufei asked, checking the pasta and slapping Heero's hand away from the sauce again.  
  
"Why don't you just quit working for her?" Duo asked, pulling out a few plates.  
  
Wufei smirked. "Une doesn't want to hire Heero, remember? Besides, Relena has him wrapped around her finger."  
  
Duo laughed as Heero growled. "She does not! And, at least I don't work with teenagers.  
  
"I like kids," Duo protested, but it sent a funny ache through his chest. Wufei flashed him another concerned look, like his stifled speech earlier, but let it pass unchallenged.  
  
"You are a kid," Heero returned, not noticing the exchange. Duo felt another ache in his heart. Heero never noticed.  
  
Seven years after the war, their arrangement hadn't changed. They lived together, slept together, ate together, and worked separately. Sometimes Duo wondered how long the charade could continue.  


* * *

  
His hands were shaking, and he reached over to crank up the heat to maximum blast. Damn it all! Stupid, stupid, stupid...  
  
The heat was all the way up, but the car still felt cold to him. He just needed to get home, get under a blanket, get a mug of hot chocolate, or tea, stick some logs in the fireplace, crank up the heat...  
  
Oh, and maybe take his medication. Yeah. That might help, too.  
  
The war had hardened him, he'd discovered a few years after the end of the fighting. Not as much as it had Heero or Trowa, but more than Quatre or Wufei. Death was an end--almost a release in some cases. Way back before they had electricity (and possibly the wheel; he taught English, damn it, not history!) this Greek guy, Lucretius, wrote a long poem entitled "The Nature of Things". Basically, it detailed his theory on atoms, and how they comprised the natural world.  
  
Lucretius thought that, when a person slept, their soul loosened and escaped the body, snapping back in place with wakefulness. Similarly, death came when the soul never returned. Even if Duo had believed in souls--which he didn't, because of the whole not believing in God thing--he would think this was some kind of bullshit, simply because there were living people wandering around out there in this fucked-up world without souls. They were intelligent,  
  
_too intelligent. No one so young should be so intelligent_  
  
but their eyes held a vacancy Duo had seen in Heero's eyes when he was on the Zero-system. And, these people couldn't blame it on some insane scientists.  
  
He pulled into the garage and breathed slowly, resting his head on the steering wheel and wrapping his arms around himself. Damn.  
  
The expression in Derrick's eyes as he'd pointed the gun at his classmates--he was consumed by the power. That vacuous look of soulessness just consumed his face.  
  
_Jesus._  
  
It was too much, after the stress of the past few days. Luckily, Marissa, in her infinite wisdom, had noticed the expression on Duo's face as he'd handed the terrorists  
  
_children with guns!_  
  
over to the police. He'd given his statement and been immediately excused. Marissa knew how he got sometimes, when the weakness in his body came back with a vengeance.  
  
"Go home," she told him. "Take a few days off. Get it together."  
  
The house was quiet and dark, and he shivered a little. He tossed his keys in the basket, but didn't bother to remove his scarf, gloves, and coat. The light next to the phone blinked a few times, and he stared at it. He should call Heero and Wufei. Let them know what was going on.  
  
Wufei's number came easily to hand, despite the clumsy large fingers of his gloves, and as the phone rang he struggled to breathe, to relax, to sound like he had it all together.  
  
"Chang."  
  
"Hey, Wu." He bit his lip as his voice cracked, and sat down heavily in a kitchen chair.  
  
"Duo?" Wufei sounded surprised and only a bit concerned; evidently, he hadn't heard about the school yet. Surprising, actually, considering the way reporters trumpeted high to heaven any shred of violence involving children, packaged into a neat little sound bite. Duo felt suddenly ill.  
  
"Hi." It was nice just to hear Wufei's voice. He breathed in again, feeling kind of soothed and kind of stupid for feeling soothed.  
  
There was a pause. "Duo, are you okay?"  
  
Duo laughed, but he sounded hysterical, even to himself. "Yeah. I... there was a shooting today at school. Don't worry," he interrupted Wufei before the other man could get out more than a syllable. He traced winding patterns on the table top. "No one got hurt. I stopped the terrorists. I just wanted you to know that I'm okay."  
  
"Terrorists? Duo--"  
  
"They were kids, Wufei." They were the same age the boys had been when they piloted their giant Machines of Death. When Duo had been _Shinigami_. These kids would be branded as insane killers for the rest of their lives, without having killed anyone--thanks to Duo's quick reflexes--while their teacher, who had killed thousands  
  
_more? God only knew how many_  
  
was hailed as a hero. It boggled his mind.  
  
"Duo..." Wufei's breath whispered over the line, and Duo knew it was time to end the call.  
  
"Marissa sent me home for the rest of the week. I just wanted you to know, in case you heard. I'm fine."  
  
"You want me to call Yuy and let him know?" Wufei asked gently. Duo wondered how he could call his lover by his last name, then wondered what Wufei called _him_ behind his back.  
  
"Yeah, that would be great." Suddenly, all Duo was was tired. "I think this phone is dying. See you tonight."  
  
"Take care, Duo," Wufei said. Duo could hear the hidden meaning behind the words. _I know you're not doing well, and we will discuss this later._  
  
"Yeah, Wu. Think I'm gonna take a nap."  
  
"I'll see if I can come home early."  
  
"Don't worry about it."  
  
The phone fizzled and died in his hand, and he stared at it blankly for a few moments before taking it over to the cradle and letting it fall in. Some days, he thought, it just didn't pay to get out of bed.  
  
Medicine, he remembered suddenly. It was a new prescription, still fresh in the white pharmacy bag, stashed under the sink in a hurry when he'd gotten it. Sally had prescribed it at his last appointment; she knew a colleague who was working on developing medication for the survivors of the latest L2 plague, and so he always got the improved version. No more injections for him, just some gel tablets and an inhaler.  
  
He pulled the bag open, reading the list of side effects, directions, and precautions stapled to the outside of the bag.  
  
The last appointment had not gone well.  
  
He held the bottle in his hand, looking at it without really seeing it. His lungs were permanently damaged, which meant...  
  
He popped the safety cap and swallowed two of the blue pills, washing them down with a glass of warm milk. The pills would stop the shivering, stop the coughing, stop the ache in his lungs, stop the dizziness--that was what Sally said, anyway. It took them a while to work, but it was okay; Duo was miserable, but not that miserable. He wished the blue pills could take away the pain in his heart, but there was no such thing. If only...  
  
A million completions ran through his head at that thought. If only the little blue pills could make him stop loving. If only Sally could wave a magic wand and fix his lungs. If only children could stop picking up guns, and leave the adults to fight amongst themselves. If only he could make a difference. If only Wufei and Heero weren't together. If only they would love him like they loved each other. If only Wufei was here to hold him, and stop his hands from shaking, and his eyes from watering. If only he had an onion to blame his tears on this time.  
  
He hiccoughed, suddenly, and shivered. His favorite brown blanket. He needed his blanket.  


* * *

  
"Yuy."  
  
"Hello, Yuy."  
  
"What's wrong?" Heero tensed, hearing the tone in Wufei's voice.  
  
"There was a shooting at the school. No one got hurt, but Duo went home."  
  
"Who was it?"  
  
A sigh came over the telephone line. "Children, Duo says. Students, I'm assuming. The Preventors haven't been called in. It's police jurisdiction."  
  
"Right." Heero clicked his pen a few times. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. Realizing what he was doing, he set it down and glared at it.  
  
"I'm going to see if I can leave early."  
  
"I'll see you at home then."  
  
"Right."  
  
They hung up. Heero frowned, looking at his calendar. He could maybe clear that last meeting with Relena from his schedule and make it out a few hours early... they could watch old movies and eat popcorn.  
  
Yuy smirked a little. It was a good plan. He'd surprise his lovers.  
  
He didn't get a chance to surprise Wufei and Duo very often. His hours were longer; Wufei and Duo usually collaborated on the dinner effort, which left him little opportunity there, and his taste in movies was entirely different than his eclectic lovers', so surprising them with entertainment was difficult as well.  
  
He folded his arms on his desk and considered. It was almost Spartan in appearance, without Wufei's odd talent for picking up knick-knacks, or Duo's continual clutter that just seemed to follow in a large, congealed clump wherever he went. There was an inbox, an outbox, a pen, a picture, and his laptop; the rest was all in the drawers--including his spare guns, of course. Heero lived by a creed that included the phrase, "and you can never have too many pieces of automatic weaponry, although a letter-opener will do in a pinch." He kept his letter opener in the top drawer, with his pens.  
  
His eyes came to rest on the picture, and he picked it up from the corner of his desk and brought it closer. It had been taken at the celebration they'd had when Duo'd landed his teaching position. He'd been ecstatic, and Heero and Wufei had been fairly pleased to have at least one person out of the dangerous, gun-wielding business of protection. Not that Duo wouldn't jump if Une had a mission that required his services, but on the whole, he seemed to be pleased with his lot in life.  
  
The picture had Wufei sitting in a wooden chair, arm resting on the back of it. Duo was leaning on the table behind him, arm slung over the ex-Shenlong pilot's shoulder and along his chest, grinning wildly at both the camera and Wufei's wry look of reluctant amusement. Heero stood a bit behind Duo and to the side, looking--well, he wasn't smiling, but he _was_ relaxed.  
  
His fingers traced the image of his lovers, and he allowed a half-smile to creep upon him. They were special, those two; he wished he had what they had. It was special, whatever it was. It wasn't something that could be learned, or manufactured, or brought to life--whatever it was, it was simply there between them. It was a closeness, an understanding. It was something that he knew he could never have with either of them alone. Occasionally, listening to them banter in the kitchen, or during a movie, or over Une or just anything, he would feel a small hint of jealousy manifest. It was _easy_ for them, something they had that he could never have. He wasn't used to talking, or joking, and he knew that Wufei got a bit morbid whenever Duo left them alone for some "bonding time", as Duo termed it. Heero wondered what Duo thought they did in that time; Wufei wasn't a great starter of discourse, and Heero could hardly be called a wonderful conversationalist in his best moments.  
  
It hurt, to see the light that flickered between them and not be able to grasp it. He couldn't even understand it.  
  
He was so deeply entrenched in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice when the mail boy came by. An odd look of smug satisfaction was on the boy's face, and Heero set the picture down, warning bells ringing with full intensity. He studied the boy, frowning.  
  
Fifteen minutes later had the boy pressed up against a wall, scared--literally--shitless and pouring his pathetic disgruntled heart out. Why was it always the boys from the mail room? Pathetic losers. With a sneer, he clocked the kid across the head. It was like fighting OZ again, except the terrorists were stupid terror-happy brats.  
  
Relinquishing the smelly moron to Security--well, the Security guards with lesser paychecks, actually--he walked over to Relena's office and walked in, ignoring the protesting secretary. As usual, he didn't bother to knock.  
  
And, as usual, he caught Relena at a particularly bad time. "Um, Heero!" she squeaked, pushing Dorothy away from her neck. "Is there something wrong with Julie's intercom?"  
  
"Johnson from the Mail room put a bomb in my house. I'm going home to defuse it." He glared at her and Dorothy, who shot a nasty look back and hooked her arm around her girlfriend. "I wish you'd just formally announce your relationship already. Morons are still trying to blow me up for 'leaving you for another man'."  
  
"I'm working on her," Dorothy replied wickedly. "If you don't mind leaving now..."  
  
Relena pushed her away, a worried look on her face. "A bomb? Really? Do you need back up? I can formally request Preventor support from Une--not that Wufei couldn't round up some people if needed--"  
  
"Don't worry," Heero said, a tad smugly. "It's on a timer. It's going off in a month. I have plenty of time to get rid of it."  
  
"You know I'll let you go right away to get rid of it, right?" Relena asked, relieved. "Are you sure he was telling the truth?"  
  
Heero snorted. "That boy talked so much I practically know his life story. He's a bomb expert, and a horrible liar."  
  
"Where'd he put it?" Dorothy asked, perching on the corner of Relena's desk.  
  
"The chimney, of all places." Heero chuckled. "Who puts a bomb in a chimney?"  


* * *

  
"Who puts a bomb in a chimney?" Wufei asked incredulously. "Are you sure he wasn't just messing with your head, Yuy?"  
  
"Positive," Yuy replied.  
  
"The chimney!" Wufei said, shaking his head. Then, realization struck from behind. "Oh, the chimney..."  
  
"Chang?"  
  
"Duo had another attack." Wufei shoved his papers aside, pulling his jacket off the back of his chair and stuffing his arms in the sleeves. "I'm leaving right away."  
  
Heero cursed. "Me, too. I'll be home as soon as I can."  
  
"Right. Chang out."  
  
"Right."  
  
Wufei hung up and dashed out of his cubicle, pausing only long enough to give his excuses to Une. She protested, he growled about protecting his family, and she let him leave. Standard Operating Procedure. They only went through the routine because it suited their strange friendship. Wufei still wasn't sure how it was that he came to be working for his former enemy. That part of his life was a little hazy... but it involved fast talking on Une's part and the offer of a large salary. Wufei thought he remembered swearing, too, but...  
  
He hopped in his car, loosening his tie with one hand as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed their home number.  
  
After a few rings, a calm voice informed him that, "the number you have dialed is not responding, or temporarily out of service. Please try again at a different time."  
  
He swore, jamming his keys in the ignition and putting on his seatbelt before calling Duo's cell. It rang for a while, and he eventually just gave up, pulling out of the parking lot of Preventor Headquarters, straight into--  
  
a traffic jam.  
  
He could feel himself slipping into battle mode.  


* * *

  
Duo shivered, still feeling cold, despite the medicine, the blanket, and his hot beverage. His hands felt numb, his fingers unresponsive. His nose was stiff, and he rubbed it against the slight warmth of his inner arm.  
  
People, he decided, were morons.  
  
Duo didn't understand people. He didn't understand why they did stupid things, like shooting up a school, or... other stupid things that they did. What was the point? What was...?  
  
He sighed and stood, shedding the blanket and setting the mug of hot chocolate down on the table. His heavy coat still lay where he'd left it, puddled half on, half off a chair, and he pulled it on, struggling with his clumsy fingers to zip it up. After he had donned his fuzzy hat and gloves, as well as his sturdy boots, he grabbed the firewood carrier and set off outside for the woodpile at the edge of their property.  
  
The first blast of cold air outside caught him by surprise, and he blinked in the bright January sunlight as it reflected off the snow-covered landscape. This house, situated on the edge of the woods, was beautiful--and he and Wufei and Heero had bought it, fair and square. A fresh chill worked its way down through the lining of his stomach, past where the hot chocolate had been keeping it insulated, and he trudged through the snow, listening to it crunch under his feet.  
  
He fell into a slight trance, walking through the snow; each step was monotonous, and the sound of his footsteps merged with his depression until he was standing in front of the woodpile, without any recollection of having walked the entire way. Opening the cloth, he spread it out on the ground and began to stack wood inside it. After he had a full load, he gathered the handles and began to carry the wood back, shaking from the cold and the strain.  
  
The trip back seemed to take much longer with the weight of the logs pulling against his arms, and he supposed he was getting weak. Teaching, while mentally trying and moderately rewarding, did not make for firm athletic shape. Of course, he worked out with Wufei and Heero--in more ways than one, he thought with a slight hint of a smirk, and struggled not to let his grip on the handles slip--but he knew he was in less than the ultimate condition he'd been in during the war, a product of both the times and his occupation.  
  
He stomped the snow off his boots and set the cloth carrier down in its frame before he bothered to take off his additional "outdoors" warmth. Duo took his blanket from the couch and pulled it around him, moving to get the kindling and matches.  
  
There was nothing especially spectacular about Duo's blanket; it was grungy brown, a little worn in some places, and the stain from the time he'd passed out with a nosebleed on it--the last time he ever took _that_ medication, Wu made sure of that--had never fully come out, no matter how many times they put it through the wash.  
  
Wufei gave him the blanket years ago, shortly after they all started sharing a bed, to help him stay warm in his gundam during a solo mission. He thought it was ugly at the time--it was still ugly, in fact--but he'd never gotten rid of it. Even now, when he felt helpless and pathetic, he pulled the blanket out of the linen closet and draped it over his lap, remembering the power he'd felt while piloting Deathscythe, and the way Wufei had gruffly avoided looking him in the eyes while giving it to him. Duo kept the blanket in Deathscythe until the end of the war, when his gundam went to that big ol' place in the sun to roast in peace. He'd also saved the self destruct button, as a memento of the only piece of Deathscythe that never worked.  
  
He set the kindling up in the fireplace and sat on the hearth with the matchbox. Fingers shaking, he tried to light the match.  
  
It broke.  
  
He lit another, but the trembling in his fingers put out the flame before it reached the wood.  
  
He struggled to light another one, cursing as the chemically-treated head popped off, rolling across the hearth and falling to the floor.  
  
He lit another and dropped it. It flickered out and died on the stone hearth.  
  
He frowned. His pile of used matches was growing, and he hadn't even started the fire yet.  
  
He lit two at once the next time, to keep them on fire as he carefully moved them towards the wood. And then promptly blew them out, realizing he had forgotten to open the flue.  
  
The chimney open, Duo felt free to light the next match. Luck seemed to be with him, for it reached the kindling and lit with little prompting. He lit it in a few different places, hoping that he would finally--_finally_--find some warmth.  
  
The front door flew open with a bang, and Duo whipped around, still wrapped in his blanket. Wufei was charging in, through the front hall, through the kitchen, and into the living room, still in full Preventor regalia. The Chinese man grabbed Duo, violently tossing him onto the carpet away from the fireplace, and quickly put out the fire.  
  
Duo blinked, stunned, and pulled his blanket tight to his body. "Wufei?"  
  
Reaching into the chimney, Wufei felt around, finally sticking his head in to gaze up into the inky blackness.  
  
"Wufei?"  
  
With a strangled curse, Wufei finally reached up and pulled something off the wall of the flue, bringing it down with shaking hands and placing it gently on the hearth.  
  
A bomb.  
  
Duo felt the last shreds of normality leave him as he dropped the blanket, walking over to the kitchen to fetch a pair of scissors. He was back before Wufei had more than a chance to study it, eyes grazing over it for the panel.  
  
"Duo, get out of here." Wufei didn't even look up, fully absorbed in the problem.  
  
"I'm the demolitions expert," Duo answered. "You get out of here." He took a seat next to Wufei and pried the side panel off to examine the interior of the bomb. "Guy knew what he was doing." He slipped two of the wires between the blades of the scissors.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Duo cut the wires with a quick snip and set the scissors down, staring at the remnants of the bomb. "Well, it's a piece of trash now."  
  
Wufei grabbed him suddenly, holding Duo tightly and burying his nose in his neck. "I was almost too late," he whispered after a moment.  
  
It had been a long time since Duo had had two near-death experiences in one day. He clutched Wufei just as hard and squeezed his eyes shut. They crouched there on the cold stone hearth for a long moment, just holding each other in silence.  
  
When he had finally calmed down enough to speak without his voice cracking, Wufei--still from his position hidden in Duo's neck--explained the situation.  
  
"When does it end, Wu?" Duo finally asked. "When are people gonna stop trying to kill us?"  
  
Wufei turned his head on Duo's shoulder, breathing against his neck. "Soon, I hope."  
  
Duo felt the stress of the past week spin his mind. "I'm leaving soon."  
  
Wufei lifted his head to meet Duo's eyes. "This isn't about the bomb," he said softly, "or the shooting."  
  
Duo pulled away, walking over to the large window facing the back of the house and staring at the woods.  
  
"You've been acting like this ever since you came back from your appointment with Sally," Wufei said, his voice gaining strength. "I wasn't going to push, but I changed my mind. You're going to tell me what's going on, Maxwell, and you're going to do it now."  
  
"It's not going to happen, Wu." Duo didn't look away from the window, instead tracing the outline of one of the older, stouter trees on the edge of the woods.  
  
Wufei prompted after a moment of silence. "What do you mean?"  
  
Duo could see the reflection of his own bitter smile in the glass. "You remember my dream."  
  
He could see Wufei's reflection stand. "Yes...?"  
  
Duo sighed. "Sally says my lungs will never be strong enough to be off planet for more than a month. That means no orphanage, Wu. No place for the street brats of L2. It means no memorial for Sister Helen and Father Maxwell." He felt Wufei's hand on his shoulder and wondered when he'd gotten so close. "All this work for nothing."  
  
"You can build an orphanage here, on Earth--"  
  
"Earth has tons of orphanages," Duo said bitterly, pulling away from the hand on his shoulder and taking a step back. "L2 has exactly none, that's how many, and it needs ten, twenty. L2 is forgotten. It's the scum colony. It's where all the prisoners go. I just wanted..." He looked back out the window, away from Wufei's sympathetic gaze. "I'm not going to stay here anymore.  
  
"You guys have been wonderful to me, and I've taken advantage of your friendship for a while, but I can't--I can't stay here any longer, Wu."  
  
"Why not?" Wufei asked, softly. Duo expected the surprise, the confusion, the hurt, but the note of desperation was something of a shock.  
  
"Because I love you." His own voice was blessedly calm on that declaration, but he could feel his throat closing up. "I mean, I'm in love with you. Truly, madly, deeply. And I know you're in love with Heero, and he's... Both of you. I love you both. I don't want to mess up your relationship anymore. I mean, how hard has it been to have a quiet evening alone with me around? I try to leave you guys alone every once in a while, but I know I'm just everywhere you want to be. My god, I even sleep between the two of you." He turned away. "I'll have some place lined up in a week, a month, tops. You guys can have the house to yourselves; my third of it will be an anniversary present for you. God knows you deserve it."  
  
"Duo," Wufei interrupted, turning him around and putting one hand to his cheek. "You stopped being an outsider in the relationship long ago. Heero and I both consider you a part of us." Wufei pulled him close, smoothing back the hairs that had jumped loose from his braid. "I love you, too. Truly, madly, deeply. I'm in love with you."  
  
Duo could feel Wufei's soothing hands on his back, in his hair, smoothing back the aches and wrinkles and holding him close. Wufei was a strong presence against him, and something that had been locked down in the pit of his stomach lifted and fluttered in his chest. "You're--in love with me? But, what about--"  
  
"Heero is, too."  
  
Duo lifted his arms slowly, pulling Wufei forward the last few inches. "You're not just--?"  
  
"Duo. When have I ever said anything just for the pleasure of saying it?"  
  
Duo chuckled despite himself. "Well, how about right after the war, when you made up the 'A-B-Cs of Justice' and recited them at the top of your lungs in a fit of drunken revelry?"  
  
Wufei pinked a little in the cheeks and nuzzled Duo's nose. "Not drunk now, am I?"  
  
"No," Duo murmured back, "I suppose you're not."  


* * *

  
The house was still standing when Heero arrived home, which he supposed was a good thing. The call from Wufei about the defusing of the bomb had come as a relief beyond description, but Wufei had mentioned that he might want to come home as soon as possible.  
  
And here Heero was, to find a quiet house. Wufei was in the kitchen, tidying up something.  
  
"Where's Duo?" Heero asked.  
  
Wufei looked at him steadily. "Sleeping. He had an adrenaline burst that counteracted the effects of the medication for a moment when we found the bomb, but he crashed soon after that."  
  
"So, what's the big emergency?" Heero asked, heading back to the main hall to drop his keys in the key basket and hang up his coat.  
  
"Heero, we need to talk." Wufei left his sponge on the counter and moved to sit at the table. "I know that you love Duo. I do, too. We've never officially had that discussion, though. Duo... he needs to hear the words."  
  
"I thought he knew," Heero said, frowning. "It's obvious."  
  
"Nevertheless, Heero... I want to marry you."  
  
Heero blinked.  
  
"Both of you," Wufei continued, looking at his hands. "I--I'm in love with you and Duo. I want everyone to know. I want Duo to know."  
  
"Is that even possible?" Heero asked after a moment.  
  
Wufei laughed, the bitterness showing on his face. "Of course not. Polygamy is still illegal. But that doesn't stop me from wanting it."  
  
Heero paused before reaching one hand to rest it on Wufei's shoulder. "If that's what you want, we'll figure something out."  
  
Wufei smiled, but it was a little dull. "I love you."  
  
"Go take a nap." Heero pulled Wufei out of the chair and nudged him towards the stairs. "Duo would love the company."  
  
"You're right. I'll just rest for a bit. Are you coming?"  
  
Heero shook his head. "I... I'm feeling hungry. I'll make dinner."  
  
Wufei looked at him sadly. "We still have lots to talk about, Heero. Duo's appointment with Sally last week has revealed some upsetting information."  
  
"He's better," Heero said. "The attacks are almost completely gone."  
  
Wufei shook his head slightly. "We'll talk about it later. Are you sure you don't want to come up now?"  
  
Heero nodded, mind already whirling. "Go on and nap."  
  
"Right." He trudged up the stairs wearily, holding onto the railing.  
  
When Heero heard the door swing shut upstairs, he was still staring at the kitchen. The questions in his mind seemed to just tumble around and around, jostling each other and running together in a harsh cacophony of unknown.  
  
What was wrong with Duo's lungs? Could Sally keep him healthy? How could Duo not know about their feelings? Why would Wufei want to marry them? What would happen if they did get married? At what point did one order flowers for a wedding? What kind of flowers were put in weddings? What if Wufei didn't like the flowers? What if Duo didn't want to get married?  
  
He shook his head and moved around the living room, gathering coats and hats and scarves to hang up in the hall closet. Afterwards, he opened the fridge and removed some peppers and scallions. The washing and preparation of the vegetables left him a rhythm to think to.  
  
Back before he and Wufei had first invited Duo to join them, in that rickety old cabin, his relationship with Wufei was stilted. They would not have lasted much longer as a couple; Heero was so emotionally cut off, Wufei so angry and troubled, that the only real comfort they drew from the relationship was physical. Duo's joining started the healing.  
  
Heero once held a conversation with Quatre--well, Quatre did most of the talking--about love. "It's simple," Quatre had said, smiling at Trowa through the window. "The more you give, the more you receive. That's what makes it all worthwhile. You can only love someone more if they love you back just as much."  
  
He didn't understand love, but he knew he didn't love Duo and Wufei as much as they loved each other. Perhaps it was left over from his emotional death during the war, perhaps it was just that they were soul mates. He loved them anyway, and they, him...  
  
He could deal with that.  


* * *

  
Duo woke settled into the comfort of Wufei's strong arms. He could feel the heat of the late-afternoon sun pouring through the curtains, bathing his face and the bed. Wufei lay behind him on his side of the bed, snuggled up close, like they always slept. Wufei's top hand was gently smoothing the hair on Duo's arm, almost absently; by the rhythm, Duo could tell Wufei had also fallen prey to the stress of the day and the warmth of the sun. He buried his nose in the pillow, letting Wufei's gentle scent warm his heart.  
  
"Hey," Wufei said softly after a moment.  
  
"Hey," Duo responded, turning over to face him.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Wufei asked, brushing a wisp of hair away from Duo's forehead.  
  
"Better," Duo said, and slid his hand up to Wufei's waist. "Not so cold."  
  
"Good," Wufei murmured, letting his eyes drift shut as they lay together, just resting.  
  
"Where's Heero?" Duo asked after another moment had passed.  
  
"Downstairs, making dinner." Wufei rubbed his nose against Duo's. "He was more upset about the bomb than he let on."  
  
"He only cooks when he's upset." Duo kissed Wufei once, longingly, and pulled the other boy close. "Maybe he doesn't love me."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Wufei said, nipping him. "He loves both of us. He just has difficulty expressing it." He pulled back a little, a warm smile on his face. "I have the day off tomorrow, and I'm willing to bet Heero does, too. We'll spend the day together. Put a fire in the fireplace, watch movies, play games, nap... it'll be fun."  
  
"I love you," Duo murmured. "But I won't play chess. Heero always cheats."  
  
"Twister, maybe?" Wufei wiggled his eyebrows.  
  
"Mmmm... has... possibilities..."  
  
"Come along, Lazybones," Wufei whispered after one last kiss. "Let's go downstairs and explain things to Heero."  
  
"And eat." Duo smiled, and Wufei caught the tension beginning to unwind from Duo's eyes. "How can I help loving two men who can cook?"  
  
"Move over," Wufei mock-grumbled, pushing him towards the other side of the bed, nearer to the door. "You're hogging all the room."  


* * *

Talkback time! Here's Cassima.

Back to the Index of Doom.


End file.
